Madman of Science
by Ihsan997
Summary: A group of adventurers with long lifespans are kidnapped by a crazed, decrepit gnome seeking the key to eternal youth. With their friends being vivisected one by one, they're running out of time to escape. Takes place in the far future of Azeroth; very AU. 5 chapters
1. Chapter 1

**A /N: hello, readers! Welcome to the first volume of the Saga of Sharimara, part of my Hearthglen continuum of stories. I'll start by saying that you DO NOT have to read any other stories in the continuum for this to make sense; all context appears in the narrative itself, or in the paragraph below. Of course, I would always like it if you read my other stories, but I won't force you to.**

**This story takes place in the year 115 in the Warcraft timeline; for reference, the Warlords of Draenor expansion took place in the year 31. This is an Azeroth almost a century into the future, where factions matter little and the events of the expansions are just a blip in the history books. Sharimara is the youngest daughter of Cecilia and Khujand, two of my other OCs, and this story follows the last story in their family's continuum, Long Lost Soul, by forty years. Everything else will be explained in the story. Enjoy!**

Waking up from sleep can be a different experience depending on how quickly you do it. When you're woken up forcefully, whether by an alarm clock or another person, it's often a rather unpleasant experience. To wake up slowly, on your own terms, is often considered ideal; to laze about, rising only when your body feels ready, can be compared to a small piece of heaven.

But when that slow moment of awakening comes after having passed out, and it marred by the haze of a tranquilizer, then things often aren't so tranquil. In fact, it can often be quite unnerving - especially when you wake up in an unfamiliar place. And that's exactly how Sharimara felt when she woke up inside the cell. Well furnished, relatively clean and even a bit comfortable, though still an unfamiliar cell, in an unfamiliar place, with the unfamiliar hum of an arcane barrier, across from an unfamiliar cellmate.

The frazzled blood elf woman didn't appear any less uneasy, and even seemed a bit frightened. In the blur of her first waking moments, Sharimara couldn't make out the features of the woman sitting on the mattress on the floor opposite her own, but she could sense the tension in the air and see the way the much smaller person huddled against the stone wall. Since the little redhead was obviously not aggressive, Sharimara ignored her and instead focused on slowly rolling over on her mattress into a prone position. The hum of the magical barrier holding them in the cell was almost soothing - almost, though she could still tell from the moment she regained consciousness that she was a prisoner - and helped her to will away the wooziness from whatever horse tranquilizer she must have been shot with. She'd been walking out of a bakery one night at a small Dun Morogh village when she blacked out...her stomach was still full as she awoke, so it couldn't have been that long since whoever abducted her, well, abducted her.

The blood elf literally cowered away from her in fear. Being of mixed blood, and half Darkspear, Sharimara was quite tall; she was well aware that she could intimidate strangers if she wasn't careful. Or, sometimes, if she was careful. Though that's another story for another time. Her most immediate concern was sorting out her logical thoughts and focusing on a solution, not the obvious problem.

"I'm not...going to hurt you," she mumbled to the frightened redhead. Her lips felt like mush and her voice sounded an octave too low, but she wasn't exactly concerned about winning a miss congeniality contest with this woman. "You can stop...shaking. We're both trapped-"

"I'm Ferronith!" the nervous blood elf blurted blatantly, her voice wavering as if her brain hadn't entirely convinced itself that Sharimara was of no threat.

"Okay...Ferronith...okay," Sharimara panted while burying her forehead in the bare mattress. Her father's side of the family had blessed her with regeneration and one hell of an immune system; whatever drug she'd been shot with must have been some sort of double dose, because she just couldn't shake the dizziness right away. "I'll call you Ferro. Is that alright?"

Perhaps it was due to Sharimara's drug induced haze, or perhaps it was because of the friendliness exuded by a nickname, but the Sindorei seemed to calm down a bit. "Al...alright," Ferronith stammered. It was clear that she'd been shaken by whatever she'd gone through. And if they wanted to escape wherever they were, Sharimara ventured a guess that the woman wouldn't be of much help.

"Good...that's progress. I'm going to roll into a sitting position now, Ferro. Don't be afraid...alright?"

"Alright...okay."

"Good," Sharimara purred in a tone closer to her normal speaking voice. Taking her time she rolled over onto her side, then her back and finally worked her way into a hunched over sitting position. The mattress was old and unwashed and the floor was obviously stone judging by the light echo of her movements, but she'd slept in much tougher conditions before. Without trying to open her eyes again, she simply began to collect her thoughts. "Ferro, my name is Shari-"

"Hi, Shari!" Ferro blurted out again. She was still a nervous wreck and looked have convinced that she was about to become the subordinate member in a prison couple. It was almost amusing - almost, were it not for the fact that she did have reason to be nervous when jailed with a stranger.

"Yes, hello. Ferro, I'm going to talk, and I want you to tell me if what I'm saying makes sense to you." After waiting in silence for a moment, Sharimara pressed her fingertips to her temples and pushed the young woman for a response. "Alright?"

"Alright, miss Shari."

"Okay. Ferro, I was just walking out of a bakery and trying to finish a late night snack when I passed out in a deserted street. I just woke up here - literally, just now. I'm assuming I've been kidnapped, and we're in a jail...I need to ask you as well: have we been kidnapped?"

For a moment, Ferronith hesitated and Sharimara worried that the young woman was too traumatized to speak. Then...the flood gates opened.

"They took me and I didn't even do anything wrong! I was on a ski trip with my husband and kids and we were having so much fun and we didn't do anything wrong to anybody but then I went out of the resort alone one night to smoke because I don't want to set a bad example and..."

She rambled on for quite some time, which at least meant she was preoccupied. Tuning out her laundry list of reasons why she was the least deserving person on Azeroth to be treated that way, Sharimara took solace in the fact that she could stretch, flex her muscles and check for injuries without frightening the young mother (apparently). Sharimara didn't project the most wholesome image, and there was the lingering worry that such a jumpy person would easily be set off. Once Ferronith seemed to be on the tail end of her rant, she was cut off.

"So you were chased down an alleyway, shot with a rifle that exuded gas and you woke up next to me?" Sharimara asked for clarification.

Almost to the point of hyperventilation, Ferronith looked every bit the deprived smoker put into a stress test. She was probably the type who blamed herself for everything her children did wrong, too. "Yes! Yes...I don't know how we got here exactly. I only know a out the rumors."

Jackpot. "I've heard the rumors, too, since I started my trip here," Sharimara replied, finally feeling some sense of her balance return. "But tell me what you know. Tell me everything, because knowledge is power. And...I'd rather not die in the lab of a mad scientist."

Pursing her lips and breathing heavily, the blood elf seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve and left no emotion fleeing through her mind unexpressed. "Well...I heard about that too. That somewhere, a mad scientist in Dun Morogh abducts elves. Elves and draenei. Elves, half elves, and draenei. He does experiments on us but we only know rumors from drunk goblin and dwarf contractors who claim to have constructed this place for him. He kidnaps people...and they're never heard from again."

Sharimara pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long, closed mouthed sigh. "So you haven't heard anything more than I have, basically." She opened her eyes again to watch Ferronith curled up in a ball against the opposite wall. The woman was quite attractive, and didn't look like she'd be much in a fight at all. Even the fel glow in her eyes was weak, as if her only exposure to magic was the vapor cigarettes many of her kind took to stave off their addiction.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. Then, a bit of a manic nature came out, further convincing Sharimara that the woman would be a liability. "I'm stupid."

"Shut the hell up," Sharimara ordered. "That doesn't help."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop. Now...I doubt we have much time in a place like this, and my eyes are still blurry. Tell me what you can see."

The harsh words seemed to snap Ferronith out of her wallowing in misery, and the woman became a hair bit more focused. "Okay...well. The barrier is see through. It doesn't burn at the touch, but I can't drain its magic. We can see everything, and hear everything, but we can't be heard. That's why he couldn't hear us during the fight."

Ferronith jumped a little when Sharimara growled audibly in frustration. "Who is he, and what fight are you talking about?" Before the woman could even respond, Sharimara planted her heels on the floor and slid forward on her butt toward the arcane barrier. Her eyes were more accustomed to seeing in darkness - thanks to her Kaldorei genes from her mother - and when combined with the blur, she had trouble making out their surroundings.

They appeared to be in a chamber of some geometric shape, though Sharimara had forgotten geometry a long time ago and didn't know the name for the polygon. The chamber was large but cramped with medical equipment, and ringed by more cells like their own. Aside from their own chamber, there were four more plus a door to a hallway - all of them enclosed by arcane barriers. One of the other chambers was empty, two of them held two people, and one held one person. Beyond that, Sharimara was still experiencing difficulty seeing details and didn't want to rush her recovery.

Like a true bipolar spaz, Ferronith had already calmed down enough to scoot up right next to Sharimara after having shook in fear from her just a few minutes ago. "The man across from us, the night elf man...they tried to take him."

"Ferro, who tried to take him?"

"The golems. The same ones I saw before I was gassed. Except, he - the scientist, this little gnome - only sent one."

"And they fought?"

"The man destroyed it completely. He...did something to its head. He's not a druid or warrior or anything but it was incredible, he was fighting for his life. When he knocked it down, the gnome closed the cell again."

Before Ferronith could continue, Sharimara continued her interrogation, entirely fixated on escape and nothing else. "First of all, what did the night elf man do to the golem's head? And secondly, how did the gnome close the cell?" she asked intently.

Swallowing a bit of saliva, Ferronith appeared relaxed once she had someone to talk to. "He...jumped into the golem's arms instead of running away. And he grabbed its head and rotated it, and then pushed it back - almost like if he wanted to kiss it, but I think he broke it. Then the gnome ran toward the center of the chamber and I heard him doing something, but I couldn't see - he's too short."

"And how do you know that the other prisoner couldn't hear you?"

"Because we were all shouting for him to jump out of the cell the moment the gnome ran away - we knew he was up to no good. But his ears didn't even twitch, so he couldn't have heard us. Then when the gnome walked away I shouted racist words at him and he didn't even flinch." Ferronith stared down into her lap, her mouth pulled into a tight frown. "I'm not a racist. I don't even know why I said things like that because not all gnomes are bad. I'm bad-"

"Ferro, shut up and focus for a minute!"

"Okay! Sorry!"

Sharimara was about to continue her interrogation when she noticed the smaller woman tense up. Her eyesight was returning at a rapid rate, and she could make out enough details to see the individuals in the other cells as they all stiffened up, too. One cell had a nearly naked, well built draenei man and a night elf woman crouched on her mattress like a crazy person. Another had a draenei female wearing a warrior's leather jerkin but no armor, and another mixed race person - a rather handsome male - who looked to be half night elf half blood elf. The night elf man mentioned regarding the fight was by himself and had a bruise on his bare bicep; he didn't look to be a professional fighter like the draenei woman, but was large and certainly capable of self defense.

But Sharimara didn't have another moment to focus on them. They all jumped, and Ferronith huddled against her like a child rather than a mother.

"It's him! The door is opening!" Ferronith cried.

Sure enough, the arcane barrier over the hallway door disappeared, and the mad scientist Sharimara had heard about in the tavern rumors walked out. Hands folded behind his back and goggles strapped to his head, he looked ever bit the kook he'd been made out to be. The pointy grey goatee only added to his maniacal appearance. Before she could get a better look at him, he disappeared behind the medical equipment, concealed due to his short height. When three golems followed him inside, the other prisoners all ran up against the barriers of their cells and Ferronith clung to her arm.

"No! No, he's going to try to kidnap him again!" Ferronith fretted. Though her pronoun usage was unclear, her intent was regardless; only two golems would be able to fit through the doorway at a time and not comfortably. The third hung back, obviously waiting in case its counterparts were disabled again. "This is horrible, this can't be happening!"

Leaning forward, Sharimara kept her calm, knowing that there was little she could do when she was so disoriented. At much as it pained her, she simply sat their and prayed for a miracle; the scientist wasn't looking for a fair fight or even any fight at all. When the arcane barrier came down and the two metallic golems tried to move in, the night elf man flipped. Whereas a second before he'd merely looked tense and ready for a brawl, the moment the barrier was down he leapt onto the two automatons aggressively, pulling and twisting in an attempt to push them off balance.

Immediately, the other prisoners rushed to their cells, shouting and banging as they either cursed the golems or seemed to cheer on the Kaldorei. Even Sharimara found herself inching closer toward the barrier, her heart rate increasing for the stranger. Even if she didn't know him, even if she'd been awake for less than ten minutes, there was a certain solidarity felt among prisoners without the need for words.

"Yes! Push them down, you can do it!" Ferronith yelled helplessly against the barrier as the Kaldorei succeeded in knocking the first golem off balance; though it wasn't damaged, the machines were notoriously clumsy and once grounded, their hydraulic strength was for naught. Even when the second golem hit him hard enough in the chest for the thud to echo, he didn't give up and immediately latched onto its carved face.

At no point could Sharimara hear the shouts and cheers of encouragement from the prisoners in other cells; the barriers were entirely soundproof. Even when she gave in and found herself cheering on the complete stranger, she was sure that nobody else could hear her. And even when the back of the small scientist's cape came into view from behind a cabinet in the center, even when the third golem successful grabbed the night elf's leg, she was sure he couldn't hear her warnings.

It wasn't even remotely fair. Before he even had a chance to kick the third golem, the little gnomish madman had fired some sort of rifle, dousing the Kaldorei with a noxious green gas. The golems stopped trying to hit him and simply let him try to grab on as his strength waned, and soon they stood still and ready for a command as he collapsed. The entire fight happened in less than one minute, and the way everyone's heart sank was visible as numerous pairs of glowing downcast eyes fell to the floor. When the gnome ordered the golems to left the unconscious man's body onto a hospital stretcher that was covered in someone else's dried blood - possible that of multiple people - the differences in reaction were palpable. The two draenei turned tight lipped. The other half elf looked depressed. The female night elf, who looked unrelated but was possibly a close companion, went absolutely rabid and literally foamed at the mouth as she banged against the barrier and spat what were most likely all sorts of horrible curses.

The mad scientist ignored it all, folding his hands behind his back as he ordered the golems to wheel the unconscious Kaldorei out of the room until they all disappeared, leaving the distraught prisoners behind to their confusion.

Manic once again and inconsolable, Ferronith threw her arms around Sharimara's neck. They didn't know each other nor the man who had been lost, and Ferronith had seemed afraid of her just a few minutes ago, but she sought solace in the only place she could hoe to find it. As the young mother wept onto Sharimara's autumn jacket, all the half elf, half troll could think of was how she could escape the barrier without putting herself at risk of being caught in a corner like the first prisoner.

"We'll find a way," she told Ferronith while patting the woman on the back. "I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

Only ten minutes since waking up, and Sharimara had already been hit by quite a bit. Rumors of a mad scientist kidnapping draenei, elves and half elves turned out to be true. Blood in a stretcher implied that the disappearances equaled deaths. And, right before her very eyes, she'd seen a rather imposing Kaldorei male rendered defenseless by a simple gas gun wielded by a person less than a yard tall. To say that everything she'd learned in combat training was being put to the test was an understatement.

Eventually, she managed to calm Ferronith down enough to talk about what happened. Obviously a civilian and a homemaker, the petite Sindorei (though they all looked that way to Sharimara) eventually resigned herself to sobbing and pretending that everything would be fine. And in the middle of her consolation efforts, Sharimara's attention was drawn by the only other mixed race person in the chamber.

Across from their cell and to the right of the now second empty one, the other half elf was looking from his draenei cellmate to Sharimara. He was dressed in civilian clothes save the leather wristband she recognized as belonging to a certain guild of safe cracking rogues, and his rather sharp, alert eyes spoke of someone who had probably also been in tricky situations before this one. His cellmate, a female draenei warrior even bigger than the male, was speaking to him urgently though in the sort of reserved yet urgent way only their people seemed capable of. Though her armor had been stripped of her, she bore the scars on her left pinky finger of someone who knew how to parry a blow with even a small object, and would obviously be of use if they could figure a way to escape. Ferronith noticed Sharimara staring, and began to look to the other cell as well.

"Ferro...are you from Silvermoon?"

Blinking at the question, Ferronith seemed a bit confused as to the relevance. "Um...yes, why?"

"They started a public program there for sign language there ten years ago. Please tell me you enrolled."

"Well, just about everybody except the very rich and the very poor did, but how is that..." Ferronith's voice trailed off as her eyes fell to the half blood elf man, noticing how he kept looking at her. "...oh. Oh. Oh! Oh oh oh oh! I get it!" Releasing Sharimara's arm, she began banging on the barrier. "Hey! Do you know sign...oh, sorry."

By the goddess...the man noticed her frantic signing and responded in kind.

"Loa praise Elune, how in the holy hell did we get this...wow, this scientist screwed up," Sharimara sighed in relief.

After a few words Ferronith didn't bother to translate, her shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Even if we can talk, we still can't do anything," she sighed in despair.

"Shut up and keep talking. Knowledge is power. What's he saying?"

The two exchanged rapid hand signals back and forth, and the man became visibly uplifted by the fact that they'd finally found a way to communicate. Both draenei pressed up against the barriers, though judging by their expressions they didn't understand sign language any more than Sharimara did.

"Well, his name is Namathir and the woman in there with him is Magtyra. She was captured alongside the guy in the speedo over there," Ferronith explained while pointing toward the blue bodybuilder in skimpy underwear on the other side of the now empty cell. "His name is Nazar. And...just one minute." Ferronith and Namathir exchanged more signs for a moment, and a sort of calm settled over the chamber as the lines of communication were open. "Magtyra says that she and Nazar both work at a crystal processing plant and were traveling with a shipment for their company. Their goblin coworkers were...murdered...Magtyra is a bodyguard for the company shipments and says she failed them. Oh, she looks so sad!"

"Ferro, focus!"

"Sorry, sorry. Namathir has a guild which was doing some honest work here and went to sleep at a camp site like normal and just woke up here. He and Magtyra don't know anything about the night elves, and she can't see Nazar from her vantage point but we can and she says that he can read lips."

"Read...lips...of course!" Sharimara exclaimed, her heart thumping at the stupidity of the mad scientist. "What an idiot that little gnome was to put us where we can see each other."

"Can you read lips?" Ferronith asked.

"I've never tried, but I can't imagine it being so hard if we talk slowly." Switching spots with Ferronith, Sharimara sat back down again and faced the other occupied cell; Nazar almost immediately turned to face her, and she could tell that the occupants of the other cells were as ready as she was to escape, save Ferronith who needed some prodding and the night elf female who looked paranoid and a bit dangerous as she curled into a ball in the corner behind Nazar. "Can you understand me?" Sharimara spoke quietly enough not to interrupt Ferronith's silent communication with Namathir, moving her lips slowly to make her words easy to understand.

And Nazar, to his credit, did seem to have an easy time understanding her. But when he replied, she found lip reading to be a bit more difficult than she'd expected. He moved his lips slowly as well, speaking as if he had mush in his mouth or almost like a donkey chewing, but she had to keep shaking her head and furrowing her brow to signal that she couldn't understand.

Lucky for all of them, Nazar seemed to be a patient man and didn't give up easily. Eventually, she was able to follow his movements. It was slow, and a little bit frustrating, but it worked.

How about now? he asked.

"Yes. I understand you now," she mouthed back to him. "Magtyra is in the other cell. The man with her knows sign language. The woman next to me knows sign language. Understand?"

Nodding in affirmation the while time, Nazar didn't waste time to reply. Yes, I understand that. I also understand that we all have a way to talk, now. How did you get here?

Ferronith continued signing next to her, and Sharimara imagined that Namathir had to spend time getting the woman to calm down and stay on topic. Still, there was no choice in the lines of communication; Sharimara didn't know sign language, and thus would be better left talking to Nazar slowly while Ferronith talked to Namathir (and thus Magtyra) quickly.

"I walked alone at night and passed out. Ferronith, this person here, was chased and shot with a gas gun - like the man here."

His name was Erinthir, Nazar mouthed back to her. The woman here is Lathadia. She won't speak now; I don't know how much we can rely on her. Glancing back at the disturbed night elf woman one last time, Nazar shifted a little more closely to the barrier and looked to Sharimara again. Did Magtyra tell you how we got here?

"Yes, she did. And we don't know extra details; just that this scientist is crazy and kidnaps people. But...tell me: did you see how he opened and closed the door to Erinthir's cell?"

Nazar's golden eyes lit up even more brightly in response to the question. Finally sitting down cross legged, he folded his hands in front of him shyly due to the lack of clothing and tried to relax. Not exactly; from here, I can sort of see. There is a rack of ugly tools in my way, but I know roughly the area where he manipulates the barriers. Nazar reached forward and began pointing. Do you see that rectangular podium? Behind the rack near you?

Focusing on the area in question, Sharimara spied a rack of gas canisters directly in front of her cell; there was a metal railing encircling the center of the chamber, and the rack was hanging from it. The area was a bit crowded; the space between the barrier of her cell and the rack was barely large enough to fit the shoulders of one of the golems, or Nazar himself, and and the ceiling was barely high enough for her to jump up were she to be released - she was by far the largest person there, a good head taller than even Magtyra. Just barely peeking out from whine the canister rack, she could see the outline of a stone podium with a metal rim on top.

"Yes, I see it."

I can see the top; there are buttons low down. He manipulated something there, but I can't see exactly. Perhaps Magtyra knows.

"Alright, please wait while I ask," Sharimara mouthed to Nazar's approving nod. She turned to see Ferronith actually laughing as if she and Namathir had told a joke; Magtyra had folded her arms and looked resolutely displeased. "Ferro, what the hell are you doing?"

For a few more seconds, the blood elf continued signing before the acknowledged the question. "What? Oh, sorry-"

"Stop apologizing. What are you doing?"

"Nothing much. Nama keeps asking personal questions about you."

Whether Namathir also read lips or if he simply guessed what Ferronith was saying, he turned his head to the side, looking resolutely embarrassed. As attractive as he was, Ferronith truly had no idea how little Sharimara gave a damn at a time like that. "Ferro, tell me something useful!"

"Aww...well, of course. I guess it isn't the time for that. They don't really know much that we don't already, but they're completely on board with getting out of here."

"Alright, cool, fine. Listen Ferro, I need you to ask them a question. And it's very important that you ask it exactly as I do, and you tell me their answer exactly as they worded it. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll do it for all of us. We need to get out of here and save Erin!"

"Erin? Who? Oh...Erinthir. Right, I'm sure we'll...save him right away," Sharimara mumbled uncomfortably, feeding the young mother the lie if it kept her focused. "Ok, listen. I need you to ask them exactly what they saw the gnome guy doing when he moved to the center of the chamber and opened and shut the barrier for Erin's cell. Exactly those words."

After pondering it for a moment, Ferronith looked up toward the ceiling. "I...ok. Well...ok." Practicing her hand movements for a few moments, she seemed to confuse Namathir, who wasn't sure if she was communicating with him or just herself. Eventually he took the hint and spoke to Magtyra for a minute while the blood elf prepared.

Once she was ready, she began frantically signing across the chamber. The one sided conversation dragged on before Namathir even got a single hand movement in edgewise and Sharimara began to worry if her words were being changed; there was no reason for the translation to consume so much time. After a while, Namathir seemed to simply butt in and Ferronith finally stopped long enough for him to talk back to her. After an inordinate amount of time during which Nazar appeared to lean his forehead against the barrier of his cell and fall asleep, the two finished their communication.

"Okay...wow. I can't believe I said all that without saying anything," Ferronith chortled as if she wasn't imprisoned by a bloodthirsty mad scientist. "I think I have the answer."

"Finally," Sharimara sighed while throwing her hands in the air. "Let's hear it."

"Alright. Their view is sort of blocked by a stretcher and some sort of screen hanging on the railing...you know the railing that's surrounding the central area, but it has a bunch of stuff blocking it because the chamber is really cramped?"

"Yes, that's obvious. Now what did they see?"

"Well. Behind the screen and in between the like...metal poles of the railing, I guess you would call them, they see these lights. One of them is big and red and there are three smaller red ones. They're on the left side of some stone slab from their viewpoint, but they can't see enough detail of the stone slab to know what it is exactly." Ferronith paused for a moment as Sharimara stared at her expectantly. "The end."

At first, Sharimara continued staring as if it were a joke; the woman was far too cheery for a prisoner with children waiting for her to escape safe and sound and return to them. Maybe it was a defense mechanism to help her cope, but there was no time for psychoanalyzing her. "Okay...let's put this together with what Nazar told me. He saw the top of a stone podium, and the gnome did something there. Magtyra and Namathir can't see the podium, but they can see buttons; so we know roughly where the buttons are. So if one of us can escape-"

"How can we escape?" Ferronith blurted out. "These barriers are arcane; they can't even be smashed open by a physical force, we'd need a dragon or a giant or something!"

"Ferro, the how doesn't matter on this point; focus. If one of us escapes, or is even picked to be taken away next and can jump past the golems, they can run to that podium. The question is, which buttons are the right one? We'll have to figure that out before the nutcase gasses us. All we have to do is-"

"The door is opening!" Ferronith shrieked as she tried to climb on top of Sharimara's shoulders. It wasn't that difficult since they were both sitting, and it was so annoying that Sharimara literally tossed the woman onto her mattress. "Ooowww!" the smaller woman yelped as she rolled onto the fabric despite being unharmed.

All eyes were fixated on the empty doorway, every conversation cut off. Anticipation began to build immediately, and Sharimara felt her mind racing a little too fast as she tried to calculate the distance between the concealed podium - or where she assumed the control panel would be, at least - and any potential vantage points where the golems might try to box her in. Her theorizing about what ifs and worst case scenarios was ended when the squeaking of rickety, ungreased wheels echoed throughout the chamber.

Like a scene out of a horror play at the Darnassus Theatre, a lone, unattended stretcher rolled back toward the center of the chamber. Rolling slowly, it had been pushed with just enough force to reach the middle without appearing as if it had been pushed. Everyone stared in slack jawed terror as they all seemed to realize at the same time that much of the blood stains were fresh.

Chaos ensued. Namathir cupped a hand over his mouth and turned away while Magtyra punched the stone wall with her bare fist. Nazar appeared to be the only one other than Sharimara to retain his composure, though it was difficult to see when Ferronith latched on to her and sobbed again. Lathadia, however, was a mess; rabid like a wolverine, she threw herself at the arcane barrier, banging against it helplessly as she appeared to scream; no sound could be heard but the fact that Nazar covered his ears and tried to put as much space between himself and Lathadia as possible was telling.

Irritated beyond all belief, Sharimara tried to remain civil while pulling Ferronith off of her. "Ferro, there was nothing we could do - Elune, calm down woman!" she urged.

"I thought we could save him! This wasn't supposed to happen! None of this was supposed to happen! I'm not supposed to be here!"

"We're going to get you out of here. Come on, I need you to be strong." Resolving an inner ethical conflict, Sharimara decided to throw a low blow for the sake of expediency. "Ferro, your kids need you to be strong. They need their mama to pull through. Can you do that for them?"

Sobbing but pulled out of her pity pit, Ferronith latched onto the words. "Yes...they're not even ready for summer camp yet, what if they grow up without a...without a mom!"

"They'll have their mom back if you can focus. They need you to be strong and focus. Can you do that, Ferro?"

"Yes," she sniffled quietly before going completely silent.

Looking back to Nazar, Sharimara could barely see his face from his spot at the back corner. Lathadia was a lost cause, fuming like a wild animal as she tried to dig her claw like nails into the arcane barrier. No longer needing to keep her voice down, Sharimara waved her hand to gain his attention and spoke out loud.

"Nazar, we can get through this. You see the podium; Magtyra and Namathir, the man she is with, can see the buttons. We can make a plan, but we have to focus."

Clam despite his cellmate's fury, he nodded wisely and grew even more stern and determined. I'm with you; we're all a team. And I have a feeling that I might know what you're planning, he mouthed.

Shaken but bearing an anger which would be useful, Namathir waved this time to gain Sharimara's attention. His eyes glowed silver night a night elf's but his face was mostly hairless like a blood elf's; his otherwise perfect features were twisted into a look of vengeance. Magtyra looked more stiff lipped, but if anything that made her look even more dangerous.

"Ferro, Nama needs to say something," Sharimara said to the blood elf, who had folded her legs into some sort of yoga position and was doing breathing exercises.

"I'm ready...I'm ready." Though still sniffling a bit, Ferronith found the willpower to face Namathir again and exchange more signs. Once again, her resolve appeared steeled as she had someone to anchor her, though this time their conversation was brief.

Namathir and Magtyra both pressed their hands against the barrier, as if performing some symbol of solidarity. "What are they saying?" Sharimara asked.

Ferronith turned back to her; the woman's light green eyes were full of hope, fear and a bit of resignation that seemed rather strong for her. "They also said they're with you, and that we're a team...so they want to know what the plan is."


	3. Chapter 3

The triangular conversation has proven difficult at some points. Magtyra and Namathir could not communicate with Nazar, and Sharimara could not communicate to either Magtyra or Namathir. She could communicate with Nazar, and so could Ferronith, but Ferronith was also the only one who could easily communicate with Namathir, but not Magtyra. Only Nazar had any formal experience with lip reading, and Sharimara technically wasn't any more qualified than the others, but she fortunately seemed to have a knack for it that the others lacked. Lathadia made no attempts to communicate even with Nazar, though considering the plans that they were all slowly working on, Sharimara had a feeling that it was unnecessary; the disturbed Kaldorei was likely to do exactly what they needed her to when the time came.

"Alright; let's review what the different plans are," Sharimara said out loud. By doing so, she could be heard by Ferronith and lip read by Nazar, and Namathir would receive the instructions via sign from Ferronith and could then translate for Magtyra. It was a complicated system, but all things considered, it was an incredibly handy one. "If the little nutcase opens their cell," she said while pointing toward Magtyra and Namathir, "then Magtyra has insisted on taking the bullet and jumping right in between the golems; all Namathir has to do is jump past them and operate the control panel, and even if he gets gassed, the rest of us can mob the golems. Our obvious challenge is that we don't know which buttons-"

"Wait, you're talking too fast!" Ferronith complained while furiously signing to Namathir, who appeared to be narrating everything to Magtyra.

You're not talking too fast, Nazar mouthed to Sharimara with a wry grin. She shot him an exasperated look as Ferronith caught up.

"Okay, go miss Shari."

"Alright. If they open our cell, I'll do the same as Magtyra. And Ferro, you run to that control panel even if you're getting gassed. No backing down and saying you feel triggered or something."

"I...alright," the blood elf replied, already becoming visibly nervous. This time, she communicated the information to Namathir rather quickly.

"And Nazar, if they open your cell then you just get out of Lathadia's way. Plow right through to that control panel; she might get hurt, but I don't think she cares at this point."

Understood, he mouthed back. But that control panel still poses a problem. That gnome took Magtyra and I down very quickly after the golems attacked our colleagues. There will likely be only a few seconds to access the panel and none of us knows how it works.

"Well, I have an idea about that-"

"What's he saying!" Ferronith burst out right next to Sharimara's ear.

Clasping her hands over her long, batlike ears, Sharimara"Damnit Ferro!" she shouted angrily.

"I'm sorry!"

At that, Sharimara snapped. "Stop apologizing all the time, you sound like my ex husband!" After her own outburst, Sharimara's eyes grew wide as mortal terror filled her. "Oh shit."

Green eyes grew even wider as Ferronith seemed to forget about everything else. "Awwwww...oh my gosh, Shari, are you divorced?" Ferronith asked in sincere sympathy as if their current situation wasn't bad enough.

"It doesn't matter! Look, Nazar is saying-"

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Ferronith asked incredulously. She was completely sidetracked and had a look on her face like she wanted to give the larger woman a hug. "Don't belittle your own feelings! We're all stressed out from the sit-"

"Ferro, focus! If we die, nothing else matters! I...oh, goddess forgive me," she grumbled while facepalming. She'd pray for forgiveness for the next low blow later. "If your kids have no mom, does it really matter whether your cellmate has worked out her issues or not?"

As if she'd been slapped, Ferronith's jaw dropped open. Her eyes were wide as saucers and her lip even quivered a bit; the same trick didn't seem to lose its effect on her, and Sharimara became less and less guilty over exploiting it to keep the woman on task.

"I...well, no," she mumbled, completely at a loss and depressed over the mere words again.

From the corner of her eye, Sharimara noticed Nazar waving to her again, and Namathir and Magtyra were both trying to draw Ferronith's attention. At perhaps the worst possible time, the barrier to the doorway opened once more.

All six of them froze. Even Lathadia, who had been completely unhinged and bordering on gnawing through the barrier if it would have succeeded in letting her escape, slumped to her knees and stared at the empty hall. When Ferronith clung to Sharimara this time, she didn't dump the blood elf over her shoulder. Had a pin dropped in the center of the chamber, the sound would have rung like a two ton tower bell.

At first, nobody entered, as if the madman was toying with them. Tension mounted and even Sharimara felt her heart rate increase slightly. Faintly but still audible to her ears, the heavy footsteps of the golems rang from the hallway and into the chamber. She surmised that it could have been a trick, all part of the elaborate show in order to keep them intimidated, as was the case with the eerily rolled out stretcher with the fresh blood on it. Lathadia grit her teeth and Namathir looked resolutely pissed, but the march of the four automatons - not three - took its slow course regardless of what anybody thought or felt. Single file due to their wide frames, the machines walked around the opposite side of the chamber, squeezing in between the central area cordoned off by the cluttered railing and the other cells. Two spread out on each side of the cell holding Magtyra and Namathir, and their intent was clear.

Dramatic and overacting, the mad scientist himself hobbled in fashionably late, allowing his silk cape to flow behind him. Without making eye contact at all, he disappeared behind his numerous hanging racks and control panels in the center, and audibly fiddled with some metal equipment before pausing for effect and speaking in a surprisingly loud, booming voice.

"I suppose it's a tad bit...cliché, one could say, to explain my plan to you all in its entirety," the elderly gnome began in a confident yet unassuming voice. "However, since your lives will contribute to some very important research, I thought it would be prudent to let you all know that you're not the victims of some insidious plot, and there is a higher meaning to this."

When Lathadia leapt against the barrier again and started gnashing her teeth, the old gnome grumbled in annoyance. There was not a hint of fear in his voice at all, and as he ascended a makeshift footstool in the very middle of the central mess of medical equipment, he finally looked her right in the eye as if he'd grown tired of her already. "I don't much care for you, either; consider it an honor that you're a part of the experiment," he said to her, though the ominous words he used caused everyone else, even Ferronith, to lean forward with great interest. "As I was saying...

"...you're all a part of some very significant scientific research. I don't expect you all to understand so easily, but the gist of it is this: you're all from diverse backgrounds. Regardless, there is one thing in common with those backgrounds." He raised his index finger toward the ceiling as if to illustrate his point that there was only one common point. Even when he held his finger up for only a few seconds, it felt patronizing and condescending.

"All of your respective races are long lived. Even more so than my own, in fact. That is why I need you all here. As should be obvious to you now, I'm at the end of my life cycle. All the knowledge I've gained and shared with the world will soon be lost. This is not fair, of course; great minds such as those of my people, or the goblins and humans, should not be lost so easily. It is one of the great contradictions of the universe that longevity is primarily wasted on people concerned with planting trees and building little light fixtures powered by crystals."

His insanity aside, the little man's casual racism seemed particularly callous. "Scum bucket," Sharimara muttered from behind her cell's arcane barrier, though the man didn't react in the slightest.

"So the goal here is simple: to transfer the longevity of your peoples to a people more deserving. And not simply all gnomes or goblins, oh no, no; only to the individuals who have proven their ability to achieve. This is, at its root, a service to all the civilized world. Your lives will drive that development, and for that as well as your cooperation, you have my thanks." Namathir shot the man a rude gesture, but when it didn't prove a distraction, the mixed blood elf glared a moment as the gnome turned to face him. "No need for that. I can assure you that hand signals and name calling does not distract me," he replied, causing the part of Sharimara's mane that ran down the back of her neck to stand up on end.

"Anyway, I do apologize for the nature of your confinement; obviously, willing test subjects is an issue. It's taken me decades to set up this lab and appropriate the golems; that Erinthir fellow cost me quite a bit by destroying one of the machines and damaging another, and I'll need to find a way to earn that money back through the results of my research. And we will prevail." The gnome pointed at all of the prisoners as if they were on some sort of team.

As the man climbed down from his step ladder and began fiddling through what sounded like flimsy, flappy plastic, Ferronith suddenly grew coldly inquisitive; when it came down to the bottom line, she could become serious. "Where is he going with this?" she murmured.

On cue, the madman was ready. "So you're all wondering where I'm going with this; of that, there is no doubt," he called out from out of everyone's view. When he rose again, he had a pair of transparencies in his hand that he fed into what must have been a slot, but was also out of view. In a flash, a semi transparent image of the brain and nervous system imprinted itself on all of the arcane barriers. "This is the central nervous system, as well as its outliers," he explained in a distant, unemotional fashion.

"What I need is the nerve bundle at the base of the vertebrae - my theory is that the constant regrowth of new tissue cells stems from there. It goes without saying that for this great contribution, there is no means of survival. But it must be done...for science!" He raised his fist in the air and struck a dramatic expression he probably thought of as resolved and inspiring.

For the first time, even Nazar reacted. We are witnessing pure evil, my friends, he mouthed.

"There is nothing to worry about; the process is painless, I assure you, and I've undertaken it about a dozen times. Our dear Erinthir, for example, never woke up from the gas and never felt a thing durning the entire process." Lathadia smashed herself against the arcane barrier, no longer even coherent and vicious enough for Nazar to hop his speedo encased behind away from her and to wrap himself in a musty looking blanket on his mattress at the back of the cell. The gnome stared Lathadia down and narrowed his eyes. "You might be the one exception. I think I'll give you have a dose of the gas and just order the golems to pin you down."

"You're a bastard," Ferronith said to him as if he could hear her, teetering on the verge of tears again.

Pulling out the transparencies, the mad scientist canceled out the images of brains and spinal cords and brought the focus back to himself. "When I submitted my theories at the academy, they told me my research was wrong. And here, in this lab, I will prove all of them wrong. Because, no matter what anyone might say..." His voice dropped menacingly at the end, and he focused his hateful glare on Namathir. "I am not a douchebag."

At first, the comment seemed a bit odd; it was rather random and out of place considering the fact that he hadn't spoken in a vulgar manner up until then. But the way both Namathir and Magtyra recoiled, the way the mixed blood elf in particular let his ears droop, just seemed completely off. The gnome then turned toward Sharimara and Ferronith. The pure hatred in his eyes projected an aura so dreadful that even the half elf, half troll giantess felt herself wince.

"I am not a bastard, or a scumbag," he added to his passive aggressive rant, fiddling with an arcane powered earpiece bearing a radio antenna as he spoke.

Shock. Absolute, pure, utter shock. Ferronith gasped audibly, squeezing Sharimara's arm hard at the same time that the larger woman nearly felt herself choke on air. Unfinished with his gloating, the scientist turned back to the spitting and sputtering night elf.

"And I am not a..." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, though it came off as fake and rehearsed. "...a flaming pansexual midget who fellates dogs in alleyways for quarters," he grumbled at the foul mouthed, pissed off night elf female. Even Lathadia paused, almost physically knocked into a slumping position as she stared slack jawed at their captor.

Moving back toward the center of the room, the gnome took one of his gas rifles and slung it over his little shoulder. Once again out of sight, he stood near what was presumably the podium as he revealed how cunning he truly was. "And I am most certainly not foolish enough to leave six intelligent prisoners in clear view of each other without a means to spy on their conversations," he sighed, as if bored by the whole conversation. "Thanks to your conversations, I know your plan, and know that it won't succeed. There will be no distraction of my entire stock of golems; I am simply going to gas all of you the moment the barrier comes down, and you won't even make it all the way to the control panel if I left you unimpeded. There is no way out and no tricks you can pull; you all simply lose." His final words echoed beyond the chamber itself and across the physical plane, and although Sharimara felt the defiance boil up within her, she couldn't help but lose at least a bit of hope when even Lathadia failed to leap to her usual aggressive self.

The gnome reached out toward the panel and pushed a button, and without a sound, the arcane barrier of the cell holding Magtyra and Namathir disappeared. By the time they even had a chance to flinch at how fast it had opened up into the chamber, the gnomish madman had already gassed them, and two golems reached in and shoved Namathir backward. He fell harmlessly onto his mattress, out cold by the time his head landed onto a sweat stained pillow.

Unfair from beginning to end, the golems then grabbed Magtyra by both wrists and yanked her out before she'd even toppled over yet. This time, Ferronith didn't cry as she best her fists against the barrier, trying her best to fill in the role of Lathadia who had gone into a sort of catatonic state and was only one step away from drooling on herself as she crumpled herself into a heap in the corner formed by one wall of her cell and the barrier. Finally displaying some emotion, Nazar's hard, bony brow knit into a furious scowl as he prayed a rather serious curse invoked by Light worshippers only on the most foul of fel fiends, possibly breaking some rules in his religion in the process.

Poor Magtyra didn't even seem entirely aware of what was going on. When the two other golems wheeled the stretcher into her midsection, she almost bent over to give them an easier job. Her state was pitiful, and it was as if the warrior had fallen into a delirium that led her to believe she was being saved. Before the golems had even grabbed her by the ankles to slide her the rest of the way onto the stretcher, she was unconscious, and the gnome returned to the center of the room to press the button to close the barrier again. The golems filed out of the chamber as they pushed the stretcher along, and one of them fastened her limbs and forehead in the restraints as she was wheeled away to her death. Once the walking machines had left the chamber, the gnome hung his rifle back on the rack next to a few spares and ascended his step ladder for one final taunt.

"I will show the world...with the sacrifices you all make, I will ensure that the great minds of Azeroth must no longer wither away and die...and academia will come to understand that Doctor Nobuzz Finklesnap is not crazy."

Eschewing a final nod or even another over acted gesture, the gnome left the chamber and the arcane barrier to the hallway closed behind him.

And then...silence.

Stunned even beyond the point of crying, Ferronith eventually grew tired of hitting the arcane barrier. It actually caused no harm at all - even a simple wooden wall would hurt more when punched - but after a few more minutes, she seemed to realize the futility of the act. Nazar stayed wrapped in his blanket in the back of his cell, devastated by the loss of his coworker and dear friend. Lathadia was such a mess that she almost became a part of the scenery, as easy to go unnoticed as a chair or a doorknob. And slowly but surely, Namathir regained consciousness, eventually rising to his hands and knees over the span of a very sad, dreary hour as his body fought off the effects of the gas. Even the tranquilizers Sharimara had been shot with didn't seem as powerful in comparison.

It was another fifteen minutes before the half Sindorei, half Kaldorei male was able to sit up and look around and still a few minutes more before he seemed fully aware of what had happened. In futility that was painful to watch, he even tried lifting the mattress to see if Magtyra had hidden under it before burying his face in his hands. It was a look of blame that Sharimara, the only member of the group still level headed, recognized all too well. When nobody pierced the deafening silence that had hung over their heads for a good hour and a half, Namathir crawled toward the barrier and looked across the chamber, wearing an expression of dark, almost alluring guilt - almost, though the fact that it was over a murdered companion sobered the moment - that could have earned him a spot on the cover of any men's hairstyle magazine.

He began communicating with Ferronith in sign language again. The young mother looked up and sniffled, but seemed focused despite the despair in her once hopeful eyes. "He says he's so sorry that he failed," she translates with little enthusiasm in her voice.

Nazar apparently understood Ferronith's lips even from the back of the cell. Keeping the blanket wrapped around him despite the heat in the lab, he crawled back toward the barrier. It is absolutely not his fault, the melancholy draenei mouthed. We are still a team; and we can still communicate if we speak quietly. I don't think he can read lips or sign language; he can only listen to what we say out loud.

Digging deep, Sharimara felt the man's resolve inspire her to try again. Truthfully, she wasn't as scared as she ought to be, and she still hadn't given up hope. Huddling closer to the barrier and forcibly pulling Ferronith so close that the woman's ear was next to her lips, she spoke in the quietest voice she could muster, though even if Dr. Finklesnap heard this line, it wouldn't help him the way he would expect it to.

"Either way, he's screwed the next time he enters," she whispered. "Because I saw where he was pressing; and I think I know how to open the cells now."


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, you'd be amazed at how much can be communicated while saying less and using fewer words. Then again, you'd probably also be amazed by a mad scientist who, without displaying symptoms of psychosis, actually believed the victims of his experiments should be proud of their victimhood.

Very little information had been passed across the triangle. The initial line - that Sharimara believed she knew how to open the cells - seemed foolproof. She'd said it so quietly that even Ferronith had difficulty understanding at first. For sure, Dr. Finklesnap knew they planned to reach the control panel anyway, and he knew they'd be trying to rethink their plan; Erinthir destroyed one of his expensive golems and damaged another, and without a doubt the gnome had thought of contingency plans as well. But there was something he hadn't accounted for...something Sharimara knew that he didn't. And if he was aware that she thought she could operate the panel, then all the better; he was more likely to make the choice that she was hoping for.

Of course, she didn't bank their chances for survival on that one choice; either way, knowledge of the control panel was all she needed. But an easier job was never an objectionable thing.

Brief words shared with Nazar and Namathir eventually broke off, and the two men found themselves settled into a sort of quiet form of listening. In order to calm herself down, Ferronith tried to make small talk that Nazar lip read and Namathir received through occasional bursts of sign language. And Sharimara, despite her extreme dislike of personal topics, found herself feeding the woman a few slivers in order to keep her calm before the storm.

As a family woman, Ferronith seemed to find it easiest to discuss her own, which would eventually lead to questions.

"So my husband and I brought our kids here after saving for almost a year," she said wistfully, seeming so at peace despite her miserable situation and her previous fretting over how her children would react upon waking to find her gone. There was a certain strength there that Sharimara had underestimated before; a drive to keep focusing on the positive even in the face of horrifying odds. She'd met career soldiers who weren't as steadfast. "They're almost in their teens now, and they'd never traveled outside of Lordaeron. We felt it was time."

"It's always enriching to see the world," Sharimara replied, trying in vain to keep the conversation as general as possible.

Looking up at her expectantly as they sat next to each other in front of the barrier, Ferronith appeared pensive and unsure. "Did your parents...I guess you don't have a family since you got divorced...oh gosh, that so insensitive, isn't it? I'm sor-"

"Don't," Sharimara interjected, cutting her off. "I let it slip, so whatever. I got married, I got divorced, I got over it. Ask your question."

"Okay. So, ah...did your parents travel with you at an early age?"

Sharimara snorted, looking down and feeling very aware of the fact that Namathir was giving her a sympathetic expression she really didn't want or need. "Yeah. I'm halfbreed. We traveled a lot to see different family members."

"Oh...wow..." Ferronith sighed, seeming to take legitimate interest in rather private details. "And now?"

Gritting her molar teeth and trying to force herself to be patient, Sharimara tried to shut the topic down in the most polite way possible. "My parents died forty years ago. Mom first, then dad, and the week dad died was when I couldn't stay anymore. I've never visited home since. And no, there isn't anything more to it."

Ferronith's eyes glistened, more with wonder than with tears. "That's so strong...I don't know what I would do if my parents died already."

Sharimara snorted, the long conversation wearing on her nerves. "When it happens, it happens. And it will happen. And it will hurt. But you move on, because that's what they'd want you to do." Absentmindedly, she ran a finger along the necklace of strung fangs, talons and claws that her mother had given to her father, and that her father had given to her. When she realized that Namathir was shooting her a rather sorrowful look she let her hand drop. She did not need that sort of attention right now, and they did not need to lose focus as a group.

Shrinking like one of her own daughters might, Ferronith pulled her knees into her chest as they sat. "I don't want to think about things like that."

"Focus when it's time, and your kids won't have to - that's the most important thing right now."

The conversation hit a lull, and not even Namathir or Nazar sought to interject or add communication to the silence. By that point, considering how much conversation they'd exhausted while waiting, there wasn't much else to say. The gap between the abduction of Erinthir and Magtyra had been very short; this time, it was much longer. The group had gotten to know each other well enough: what had happened to Nazar's clothes, the reality of what Namathir's guild was doing in Dun Morogh, every last detail of Ferronith's family vacation. By all measures, Sharimara had gotten off easy; she'd spoken barely a few sentences about her own past and had successfully avoided questions as to what she was doing in Dun Morogh. All in good time, she reminded herself; she'd let them know all in good time.

The silence was broken not much later when the thumping of the golems echoed into the chamber again. Namathir and Ferronith both sprang to their feet, already tense at the sight of the arcane barrier of the hallway coming down. Sharimara and Nazar took their time standing up, and had only risen when the first of two golems filed in to the chamber. Lathadia remained slumped in a corner. Tension mounted as it had before, though it hit an early plateau and tapered off. Even Ferronith looked a little more confident despite the fact that they'd discussed so little and, as far as they knew, the odds were still stacked against their survival.

Silk cape flowing, Dr. Finklesnap filed in behind all four of his golems, standing by the hallway and folding his hands behind his back pretentiously as he fake scowled at the automatons. Slow and lumbering, they made their way over to the cell containing both the draenei and the night elf, surrounding it on both sides as they'd done before. Tired and sickly, Lathadia fought to her feet to glare at the golems like a corrupt harpy, and the woman still looked positively dangerous even in her stressed out state. Nazar, for his part, crouched low as if he was ready to tackle the first golem he could reach. His almost unattractively excessive musculature was pulled taut even as his face looked calm; he was ready.

Instead of moving toward the cell immediately, Dr. Finklesnap moved toward the center of the cluttered chamber and pushed his step ladder over toward the golems. After ascending it, he was able to see the entire room while remaining closest to his two apparent victims.

Sharimara grinned even when he scowled at her. "No matter how quietly you speak, I can still hear you; I still know your plan," Finklesnap stated plainly though with a hint of a passive aggressive tone in his voice. "You still think you have a chance; still think you can make a run for it and release your allies. Well, it doesn't matter when your allies have already donated their bodies to science."

The most arrogant, condescending smirk peeled across his lips. "Really, you were quite stupid to even try; it was a pitiful waste of planning." Turning around to look at his next two victims, Finklesnap began to descend his ladder before pausing to taunt them one last time...and that's when he realized something was awry.

Perhaps it was the way Nazar's imposing visage loosened into a comical expression of surprise. Perhaps it was the way that Lathadia stopped hissing like a real, actual nightsabre for a moment to stare at something right behind the insane little gnome. Perhaps it was the vaguely familiar yet hard to believe sound of a night elf warden's blink ability humming its natural, non arcane energy in the center of the chamber. Or perhaps it was the way Ferronith screamed in shock, right into Finklesnap's earpiece, about how Sharimara had so easily disappeared and then reappeared outside the cell.

"Shari, how did you teleport!" the blood elf blurted out once more, just a few seconds too late to actually put the maneuver at risk.

Finklesnap didn't even have enough time to turn around before Sharimara hit every button on the control panel; the ceiling sprinklers, fire alarm, and a speaker playing awful elevator music were all activated at the same time that he spun in a circle to see the dark skinned giantess herself manipulating his control panel. And the moment he opened his mouth to yell a command at his golems, she had already pressed the correct panic button to open all the cells.

"GEEEEEET THEEEEEEEEM!" Finklesnap screamed in rage right in the same exact second that Lathadia tackled the golem right next to him, slamming its entire weight on the ground and knocking him off of his ladder.

"Nama!" Sharimara shouted as she grabbed another golem from behind.

It was much shorter than her but much heavier as well. Though she could easily keep its feet off the ground, she couldn't stop its powerful hydraulic arms from swinging, and Namathir had a difficult time prying its carved face casket off with a crowbar he'd grabbed from Finklesnap's tool rack while also dodging the powerful swings of the sandwiched golem.

Two more golems hit the ground to the sound of scraping hooves; though wearing nothing but a speedo, Nazar had gathered enough momentum and jumped with enough initiative to take down two golems by himself. Sharimara quickly erased the man from her mind; he would most assuredly be safe since the golems could do very little harm once knocked off their feet. Her more immediate concern wasn't even Namathir, who had an easier time avoiding the swings of the golem she was restraining once she laid it on its side. The real difficulty, in their case, was removing its head and neck in a timely fashion, and the machines appeared to be made from arcanite.

No, her more immediate concern was Lathadia. The gears of the golem she'd tackled whirred as she slammed its head and upper back into the floor repeatedly. It was an effective strategy for neutralizing the mechanical being but not for actually destroying it, though the woman seemed to rabid that logic was likely lost on her. So, too, was the arcane distortion of the colors and air around Finklesnap as he stood atop some sort of monitor.

Bolts of rather quiet energy crackled around him, though instead of electricity it appeared to be concentrated frost magic. A deep, low hum began to ring in Sharimara's ears as a ball of energy surrounded the gnomish nutcase, and from the backside of the golem she'd pinned down she tried to shout a warning. Lathadia only looked up just in time to see the bolt of raw ice elemental power wash over both her and the golem she had been dismantling.

Finklesnap grimaced like a true villain, neither cackling nor taking particular joy in the act. His already horrid features were pulled into an even worse sort of scowl, like the winner of the world's ugliest baby contest except he was grey haired and wrinkly. The freeze ray poured over Lathadia's entire body from head to toe, turning her into a transparent, see through ice sculpture in two seconds flat; even her bones and internal organs were no longer discernible, nor was the engine of the golem underneath her.

"No!" Sharimara cried, feeling a pang of guilt over another fellow prisoner lost as Finklesnap pistol whipped Lathadia across the temple with his freeze ray.

The ice she'd been transformed into was brittle and fragile, and most of her and the golem shattered into tiny pieces all over the floor. Neither the triumphant growl of Namathir as he finally popped the head off of the golem Sharimara had been restraining, nor the low grunt of Nazar as he stomped a hoof on one of his two golems hard enough to cause audible damage to its engine in the form of a faster mechanical hum, could console Sharimara as she watched Finklesnap kick the remaining unbroken parts of the ice sculpture - Lathadia's lets beneath the knees and the golem's upper body - into unsalvagable shards.

Displaying a speed uncanny for such a crotchety old gnome, Finklesnap aimed the freeze ray directly at Namathir, who still had the crowbar in hand. That same low arcane hum rang out as the air distorted around him, and Sharimara had just half a second to estimate how much mana she had left and how closely she could blink to the spot behind Finklesnap in order to snap his neck but not be caught in the energy ball created by the foul firearm.

All those plans proved unnecessary when the most wicked screech from an otherwise tiny voice box grated on everybody's ears. A dainty pink fist with fingernails painted bright red slammed into Finklesnap's temple so hard that Ferronith cried out in pain, and she fell to her knees at the same time that Finklesnap ricocheted off of one of his monitors so hard that the glass shattered. Blood had already begun to trickle from a nasty looking gash the blood elf's superwoman bunch had opened directly over his left eyebrow.

"Aaaahhh!" Ferronith cried in pain as she cradled her merely bruised but not actually sprained knuckles.

"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHH!" Finklesnap screamed while flailing his arms in a daze and quite literally sobbing in tears from all the pain. The blood ran directly into his eye and the gash looked absolutely disgusting.

And just like that, in one second, the arcane hum disappeared. Sharimara blinked over anyway and tossed the freeze ray into one of the cells while Namathir ran over to Nazar and helped the draenei pry the heads off of the downed golems, then shut off the ceiling sprinklers, fire alarm and, most urgently, the elevator music echoing in the chamber that was almost as bad a form of torture as the initial kidnapping.

Kicking Finklesnap aside with her now damp suede boot as if her were a crumbled up newspaper, Sharimara yanked Ferronith to her feet and forcibly took the young mother's hand to examine it. "You'll get a nasty bruise, but that's all. And that's not that bad, considering the situation."

Though Ferronith was in a state of shock and beyond words, the too men gave Sharimara more skeptical expressions. Namathir spoke to her for the first time, in a rather deep, almost sultry voice. "Shari...you can teleport," he murmured in a mildly accusatory tone that clashed with the naturally alluring sound.

Already aware of the coming conversation, she grabbed the bleeding, screeching gnome in her free hand. Giving the broken ice shards that were once Lathadia one last sigh of regret, she lowered her head and turned toward Namathir and Nazar. "Yes...a blink spell. And I knowingly chose to wait until now before using it." She pulled her head back up and took time to look them both in the eye before continuing. "Please, just hear me out. On the way out of this place, I promise that I'll explain everything."


	5. Chapter 5

Bullying Finklesnap into showing them the exit of the hidden laboratory didn't consume a terribly long amount of time. The mad scientist hadn't bothered to booby trap his own crazy workspace since he'd never expected anyone to outsmart him, and thus there was no way for him to mislead them on the way out.

Almost as important as the exit was the storage unit of their belongings. It was close to the front anteroom of the hidden lab, and it was their ticket to avoid catching cold. Even during the summer, Dun Morogh was a cold place, and none of them wanted to lose their personal belongings if they didn't need to, either. Warm clothes, money and jewelry and Nazar's long underpants were the prizes they found, and the draenei man had to return Magtyra's armor and personal affects to her next of kin as well.

Lathadia and Erinthir were another issue; nobody knew them personally, and the group deemed that the authorities would be left responsible to contact the local Sentinel embassy and find out who was searching for the two missing night elves. Their inability to do much in memory of the two nearly anonymous Kaldorei, in addition to the fact that Finklesnap's surgical procedure left few pieces of flesh that were recognizable as having once been Magtyra and Erinthir, weighed heavily on everybody's shoulders. Only after much insistence did Sharimara convince the group to exit the lab with her so she could fire the recovered flare gun - strategically placed in the pocket of her confiscated coat - and wait for the search gyrocopters to arrive.

All of the group had donned their warm clothing, and Ferronith had calmed down after Nazar massaged her sore hand for her and got her talking with questions about her children. Finklesnap's forehead had been patched up, not out of sympathy so much as for the fact that Sharimara didn't want him to get an infection - she needed him alive.

Which was one of many question marks the rest of the group saw hanging over her head as they operated the hidden gateway of the lab and emerged from the conveniently hidden mechanical tree that led them into a small woodland on the edge of a frozen lake. Far off in the distance, the smoke from chimneys at the resort Ferronith's family was staying at could be seen.

"Shari, I want to be diplomatic about this, but we're outside now; we really deserve an explanation," Nazar huffed as politely as he could as they emerged from the woods and stood on the solid, snow covered shore of the frozen lake.

Before she answered, Sharimara raised her flare gun to the sky and fired off two loads. It was only around noon, but the flares were bright enough to be seen for miles. Ferronith's family and the resort guards were probably already mobilizing, as were the gyrocopters of the Ironforge police unit.

She turned to face her three companions, as well as Finklesnap who was being pulled on a dog's leash by Ferronith. Nazar clutched Magtyra's folded up, compact armor dearly and looked more hurt than anyone there as he furrowed his bony brow. Namathir looked both skeptical and sympathetic at the same time in a way that a less dashing man might not have been able to pull off.

"You do; you've been through a lot, and we've lost three living beings. I am so, so sorry for what happened...it's hard to tell ahead of time how a bust liked his will turn out. Two people we don't even know are gone, and for sure they have family members. And Nazar...please don't take my calm for insensitivity. Magtyra was a wonderful person, and I cannot express my sadness at her loss. It wasn't fair."

The draenei pursed his lips as they all listened. There wasn't much to do except wait, and he set down Magtyra's armor as the three continued to listen. "My love for Magtyra was purely platonic; she was a true and dear friend," he sighed. "But just because the feelings weren't romantic doesn't make her passing hurt any less."

"Please believe me, then, when I say there was nothing I could do; had I been capable, I would have prioritized her salvation without a second thought. Unfortunately, the task with which the authorities in Ironforge charged me left little room for options, as escape was not sufficient; Finklesnap had to be taken alive. As you can probably guess...I intended to be caught by this madman. My goal was to get inside."

Gears were turning as Namathir leaned against a tree, his roguish mind at work. "You're a warden, like what the Sentinels have," the other halfbreed surprised out loud. "You wanted to get caught because you knew your talents lend themselves to either keeping people in jails, or breaking out of them."

Long, red eyebrows pulled up in surprise as Ferronith finally understood the point as well. "You're some sort of a...bounty huntress? Hired to track the untrackable?" she asked rhetorically, using an oft quoted slogan passed around in mercenary camps.

Not wanting to appear pompous, Sharimara sufficed their curiosity by nodding demurely. "But I could not reveal those talents to Finklesnap until I was sure we could take him out on the first try; the moment he learned of my profession, he would focus all his attention on gassing me or freezing me outright. I had to let him think I was a normal prisoner, caught unaware, until I was sure we could neutralize his golems and ambush him. And until I knew for sure how to open all the cells and set you all free to help me handle his machines, I could not risk trying."

Nazar looked at Magtyra's armor. The sunshine gleamed against it, causing some of the light to shine through the top layer of snow. "Objectively speaking...I understand why you had to wait, even if some people were lost. Because..." Ferronith reached up and patted Nazar in the back, and the big man closed his eyes and nodded in affirmation as he collected himself. "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to be fair to you here, Shari. This man has killed others according to the rumors, and you had to orchestrate this mission perfectly so he could be brought to justice. Even if...some more people could not be saved."

"I was hired to perform a job for the greater good; but please understand, that does not mean that the loss of Magtyra or even Erin and Latha doesn't affect me. It does...but it could have been all of us had I not waited."

Emotional at the talk of loss but almost smiling through her ever flowing tears, Ferronith shook her head. "It's over now; we're all safe now. And sometimes, we have to accept the loss and move on with our own lives."

This time when Sharimara remained silent, it was more due to the need to keep her own emotions contained than because she was simply dismissing the manic Sindorei's words. After only a few minutes of discussion, the sounds of gyrocopter blades echoed across the sky, and color flashed as dwarven guards on rams spilled over the snowy hills below the resort to reach the source of the flares. Soon enough, the ordeal would be over.

"If you all don't mind," Nazar murmured while leaving Magtyra's armor aside for a moment, "I need a minute alone." Not even waiting for a response, he hoofed his way down to the edge of the frozen lake and out his hands on his hips, kicking us snow as he stewed and looked at his own reflection on the ice.

"Aww...Nazar, that's so - oh," Ferronith said while starting to follow him before realizing he'd meant what he'd said. Already halfway toward the shore and dragging Finklesnap through the snow on his leash, she settled instead to sit on a rock and watch Nazar, too awkward after having followed him to walk back to the rest of the group but too concerned to leave the man alone.

Sharimara watched the ram riders approach far off in the distance as she took a few steps backward toward Magtyra's armor. It wasn't the first time she'd seen good people lose their lives in the fight against the criminals and the wicked of the world; it most likely wouldn't be the last. That didn't mean, however, that she wasn't telling the truth about how much it hurt to lose the three victims that day.

"It's hard to make sense of it all," Namathir whispered from right behind her. She turned to see him still leaning against a tree; the branches cast shade on his face, obscuring much of his features even in the middle of the day.

Snorting and shaking her head, she stepped back to join him, finding nothing else to do with her time as she waited and felt the sting of loss. "Sometimes, there is no sense to be made," she sighed, folding her arms in front of her. "Evil exists; we all know that for a fact. And when it imposes loss upon the undeserving, then we see what it truly means to be victims. There is no rhyme or reason; all we can do is bring such people to justice, and dust off our knees before the next incident."

Namathir's long, slender eyebrows lowered at the same time his chin did. "You're too young, by the standards of our kind, to be so cynical about the world."

He had a point. But she was not the type to concede to the points of others so easily. "Judging by your wristband, you seem a bit world weary yourself," she chuckled lightly.

Just barely brushing against her sleeve, Namathir reached up and held on to a branch as he turned to face her. His face bore the dark mystery of his Kaldorei side and the slick confidence of his Sindorei side. "It would seem that those who tread alone can sometimes find their paths converging," he whispered in a light, almost dancing tone.

His glowing eyes locked on to hers before moving down and up briefly. An almost regal posture combined with a sort of wild air about him to make his next move almost difficult to predict, a sign of straddling two worlds that she'd always recognize as a fellow halfbreed. Slowly yet assertively like a leader who walked alone, Namathir leaned toward her. His eyes narrowed until they closed and that glow disappeared, bringing them into a bit of sudden darkness that would send most women swooning at the thrill.

Except Sharimara wasn't swooning. She was standing a foot back from him, her hands aplomb and her lips curled into a confused frown as they failed to crash into his.

"Um...what are you doing?"

Just as quickly as they'd puckered up, his lips fell loose again. He leaned back from her, letting his eyes open up as slowly as they'd closed as the awkwardness descended upon them.

"Well, I was...you know..." His voice trailed off as he tilted his head to the side, a causal sign of someone who felt they'd been misunderstood.

"Well, I kind of don't know," she replied. It was not in her nature to be cruel, but she was more than a little bothered by the presumption foisted upon her. "But I'll venture a guess that you were leaning in for a kiss?"

Pursing his lips and nodding, he rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "Alright, alright...a little too fast, I take it?"

She raised one of her indigo eyebrows, though not in a mocking manner so much as a sincerely confused one. "It's not too slow or too fast, Nama; it's that I don't know you."

"What...seriously?" he asked, an incredulous tone sharply marking his words. "After all we've been through?"

"Yes, seriously. I know we just got out of a bad situation in a group, but come on, we never spoke directly and Ferro only told you two sentences I said about myself. And I literally know nothing personal about you at all."

"Well, I-"

"And another thing! Why does everybody assume that when two people of a similar age who are physically attracted to each other survive an adventure, they must automatically date each other? Not getting killed by psychopaths isn't exactly high on the list of things that people in a relationship should have in common."

"But you can't just write a list-"

"Even more than that, how inappropriate is it to actually kiss a stranger? I mean, I know society is changing and becoming more open to promiscuity, but for real, have you heard of some of the new diseases coming out of places like Gadgetzan and the Port of Stormwind? You really should be careful about whose bodily fluids you mix with your own."

"Alright! Alright! Just forget about it!" he exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. "It was my mistake for assuming too much, just pretend it never happened."

The two of them stood before each other awkwardly, alone and away from the others as the ram riders finally came within a hundred yards. Namathir folded his arms in front of him, ears drooping and eyes downcast as he looked like a scolded child who was nonetheless accepting of the lecture he'd been given. It made him look even cuter than usual, and Sharimara began to feel as if she had been a little too cruel.

"Oh...whatever. Nama, come on." She opened her arms up to him as if to give him a friendly, unassuming hug even less cuddly than what she'd give her brothers.

Disappointed eyes met hers once more as the dashing young halfbreed hesitated cautiously. He almost looked as if he thought she was making fun of him at first. "Shari...it's alright. Thanks for leading us out of there; I already can't thank you enough for that."

"Nama, just come here. I don't really have a reason not to...you know. And I'll never see you again anyway." Motioning for him to reciprocate by waving both of her hands, she stepped a little closer. "Come on, hurry before the guards arrive and we receive nosy questions."

Only waiting for a few seconds, he gave in and moved into her embrace. The pity kiss was only uncomfortable for the first second before becoming almost kind of hot for about five seconds and then uncomfortable again for another two. And just like that, it was over.

She let him wrap his arms around her waist for a few more seconds as he stared into her eyes before nodding and cupping the side of his face.

"You'll meet an appropriate match one day, possibly another woman competing for the same burglary job. And after an initial rivalry and denied attraction, I'm sure you'll make her very happy, Nama."

Blushing slightly, he released her and stepped back, sticking his hands into his pockets sheepishly. "Thanks," he chuckled in embarrassment.

Sparing him any extension of that feeling, she let her fingertips slide down his face and onto the back of his neck before leaving him and walking to meet the ram riders. She could still feel his eyes on her backside as she strode, and she smiled warmly while sincerely hoping he'd be able to get over it by the next night. Such men generally had no shortage of admirers, if they could only focus on what they had instead of what they didn't. And he seemed like a nice guy at heart. A pity kiss was all she was willing to give, but she by no means regretted it.

Sticking her own hands into her coat pockets, she walked toward the dwarven officer who had jumped off his ram and was waiting for her expectantly. There was business to attend to, and funerals to arrange; although another job was waiting for her in the Twighlight Highlands, she would ensure that she attended all three funerals if possible, and would even meet with the families of the deceased; they deserved that and more.

But once that was done, she'd have to move on. Old wounds of her own had been left untended to, and considering that the long life of hers that Finklesnap was pursuing had only just begun for her at the age of seventy four, she would have plenty of time to men them. But on her own terms, at her own pace.

Until then...there was no rest for a wanderer. And although Sharimara was by no means lost, she was not yet done wandering her own path alone.

**A/N: believe it or not, the other endings for this were even cheesier. Thank you all so, so much for reading my first story about Sharimara Hearthglen. If you only intend on reading this story of mine and stopping, then thank you so much for checking it out; I truly to enjoy it when I know my stories moved people's hearts in one way or another.**

**If you do intend on continuing her tale, then the next one is coming in two weeks or so. I finished writing it years ago, like her entire saga, and it's all been waiting on my cloud ever since. Broken Promises is not a direct sequel and like this one, can be read on its own. It's set over two decades after this one and is part of the continuum, though (and it has nothing to do with the Twighlight Highlands). I hope you consider it. Stay safe! :)**


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